


Too Much Tuna

by ThreeHats



Category: King of the Hill, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 21:06:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7523143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeHats/pseuds/ThreeHats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An innocent prank goes horribly wrong.</p><p>All characters, locations and scenarios were pulled out of a hat to create this story, which was written in 30 minutes or less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Much Tuna

**Characters:** Captain Picard and Hank Hill   
**Location:** The Kitchen  
 **Scenario:** Too Much Tuna

 

All characters, locations and scenarios were pulled out of a hat to create this story, which was written in 30 minutes or less.

\--

When Hank Hill was told by Strickland that he needed to relocate for work, he thought he might have to move to Houston or Dallas or even Austin. While the last option sent a liberal chill down his spine, he would do what it took if it meant spreading the good word of propane to those who really needed it, and he knew Austin was an electric town so he could think of no better candidate (aside from California, but those blue fools almost seemed beyond help). 

But rather than any Texas or even United States-related options, Hank Hill was instead told that he would have to move... to space. It was an intimidating venture, to be sure. But Hank knew that if there were any alien presences out there in the great unknown... they would most likely not know about propane. He had to do whatever it took to change that.

So, tearfully bidding adieu to his wife and son, Hank bravely stepped onto the USS Enterprise and found himself lost in a bustling crowd of uniformed workers. Even now, weeks later, he wasn't quite sure what his explicit purpose was on the ship, but the fact remained that he was in deep space, trying to peddle the wonders of propane and propane accessories.

Hank Hill was in the kitchen now, giggling to himself in that slow, staccatto Hank Hill way. Having found himself at a loss for things to do, he opted for something that was slightly out of character for him--pranking. Whoever walked through the door next would fall victim to the most eloquent and elaborate prank that Hank Hill himself could think of.

Footsteps came from behind him, and Hank chuckled again.

"You seem in good spirits today, Mr. Hill," The bold voice of Captain Jean-Luc Picard filled the room, and Hank felt a little more nervous about his prank. But still, heroes were created in little moments like these where they acted against their fear, and Hank had always wanted to be a hero. Hank glanced over his shoulder at his superior officer.

"Oh, hello there Captain Picard," he said as non-chalantly as he could. "It's good that you're here, someone just let me know that you were hungry for some lunch, so I made you something."

"That was quite nice of you, Mr. Hill," Picard said, and Hank turned around slowly to reveal his master plan. A tuna sandwich sat atop a plate, but it wasn't just any tuna sanwich. This tuna sandwich was five times as large as a normal one, with a piece of white bread dangling precariously over a six inch tall mountain of canned fish. Coincidentally, the replicator was currently out of tuna, but were anyone to ask, Hank would blame it on that Crusher boy that no one particularly liked.

"Here you go, Sir," Hank stifled a laugh, and Captain Picard gazed at the sandwich with no apparant emotion. "Boy, you sure like your tuna, don't you, Sir? Haha. Who on earth would order that much tuna?"

Picard accepted the sandwich, smiling at Hank as though he wasn't handed enough tuna to feed a percentage of the crewmembers on board.

"Yes, I'm quite familiar with the flak I get for asking for quite this much, but I tell you, sometimes there's nothing in this universe that beats the taste of tuna."

Hank's face fell; he did not frequently make sandwiches, but even he knew that this was a ridiculous amount. He thought. But Picard didn't seem bothered, he simply thanked the other for the sandwich and went on his merry way back to his room. Hank was left alone in the kitchen, his first and only prank an utter failure. Hank was so devastated that he never sold propane again, disappearing into deep space. Some say they saw a man matching his description slinking through the black markets on some planets in the outer galaxies, but no sightings could be confirmed. So he simply vanished, a mountain of tuna haunting him for the rest of his days.


End file.
